


know the words

by goodnightfern



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Implications, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 12:19:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16408388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightfern/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: This is your favorite song, you just keep forgetting the lyrics.Fill for wish 61.





	know the words

_You remember Kaz, don’t you? Of course you do. You were partners._

A fine mist has rolled in over base, just thick enough to get DD’s coat puffed up and make the road a little slippery. You’re giving Jade Tree Frog a ride from medical to the central command platform. Her cigarette is modestly tucked beneath her palm to keep it dry; the cigar dangling from your lips has no problem in the rain.

Kaz was waiting for you. He tilts his head to Jade Tree Frog, respectfully, then jerks it at you. A fight broke out on S-02, and while the whole thing’s settled down, he’d like you to check in. See how they're doing. Boost morale.

“If you’re feeling all right, that is," Kaz adds, glancing you up and down. Maybe there’s a curious tilt of the brow; you can never tell when he’s got his shades on.

Jade Tree Frog glances at her watch. “He’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” It could be for both of you.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m fine.”

“Well? Go on, then.”

DD hops out of the back seat at your whistle. You’d rather walk, anyways.

“Jesus Christ,” you hear Kaz say behind your back. “Don’t you ever have any good news for me?”

The fight has indeed died down. You find Sleepy Ibex - supply technician - and Charging Frog - IT wizard - off their respective posts, splitting a smoke and shooting the breeze.

“And then he says - he says, _If I don’t get that order by sixteen hundred sharp, your ass is grass_ -”

“What, _while_ our system was still down? ”

“Yeah! And I’m like, okay, so are you gonna be the one to talk to the IT guys, or is it gonna be me? ‘Cause last time I checked, that shit’s way outta my pay grade, and then he bitches at me about how back in his day he did the old fashioned way, before we had all these fancy computers and shit. So now I'm supposed to go in, and tell you guys what to do, like -”

"That's what he does, man. Pits us against each other, every goddamn time -"

DD woofs, ruining your quiet approach. Ibex chokes on whatever he was about to say as they both spring to their feet and salute. They nearly topple when DD runs into their legs.

“Easy,” you say, to both the men and DD at once.

“How’s it going, Boss?”

“Kaz said there was a, uh, disciplinary issue earlier today.” You don’t miss how Ibex’s mouth twitches. Or Frog’s quick inhale. “Seems you boys sorted yourself out, huh?”

“Communication failure. On both our parts. Won’t happen again,” Frog says.

 

_You remember Kaz._

_He was better with the men than you. You could lead them, you could inspire them, but he knew how to plan a food budget that kept you out the red while keeping them from complaining, or how much toilet paper they’d use in a month, all the little details you never considered. He was never a gun, or the hand that held it - more like the elbow, or even the oil you used to clean it. No one would ever take him seriously on a battlefield - you never did, but there’s entire branches of the military devoted to supply and logistics. Paper-pushing and stamp-licking. Even accountants can be soldiers._

_Kaz knew what he was doing, when it came down to that. You learned to trust him in these things._

 

There was something you had to talk to Kaz about, but you can’t remember. Besides, you’d rather not disturb this picture: Kaz, leaning heavily on his crutch, while the goats sniff the pockets of his coat. He’s protesting, telling them that he doesn’t have any treats for them, but there’s a smile cracking. You won’t point out that he lost the moment he started actually talking to them.

But the goats are awfully nosy, and one of them might knock him over, so eventually you call them off. They scatter, bleating, and you pull alfalfa sprigs to feed them from your hand.

“What are you, Dr. Doolittle?” Not mocking, but affectionate. 

You shrug, stroking a kid behind the little nubs of his horns. Some of the goats have indeed been breeding; you were supposed to keep this a secret from Kaz. But all he does is lean against the corral fence, watching you, and smile.

 

_Here’s the thing about Kaz. ~~You can’t~~ -_

_~~If you let him~~ -_

_You need to take care of him. Not because he wants it, he’ll gladly push you off and forge his own path. But Kaz needs to be taken care of. Without a rock he’ll flounder and drown._

_You are the only thing he has, and the only home he knows._

 

You walk into a room of ashes, a fire already extinguished. Ocelot and Kaz still aren’t looking at each other, but at this point their tension rolls right off your feathers. The sudden silence whenever you enter the room could be written off as respectful. You’re starting to find it -

Nothing to worry about.

“Snake,” Ocelot nods. “I was just leaving.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

You won’t block the door, though, and Ocelot slips past arcing his body away from you. Kaz looks like he’s about to upheave his desk, but he only nods at you, curtly, and says, “Task Force Delta Six got ambushed in the Kunar River valley last night. Just south of Asadabad.”

“Any survivors?”

“Don’t know. Guess their iDroids got blown up with the rest of them.” His jaw twitches, clicks. “The Soviet patrol was just returning from the border. We should've known. So much for our pet Russian, eh?”

“Ocelot isn’t -”

“Believe me, I know.” Kaz’s voice drips lower, to something between a sneer and a snarl. “But maybe if you threw him a bone every once in a while he’d start being a little more helpful.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. Even you’re not that thick.”

You have no idea what Kaz is talking about. But he’s staring at you, testily, like he’s waiting for you to leap over the desk and ~~throttle him~~ ~~kill him~~ ask him to -

“Right. Like I know what the fuck he wants anymore.”

You clear your throat. It feels like Ocelot is still in the room, as if his entire presence could be summed up in the lingering smell of gun oil. “So what do you want me to do? Run recon, find survivors?”

"Slow down, commando. I'm dispatching a SAR unit as we speak. Just thought you might like to be aware of our losses."

You don't know what Task Force Delta Six was doing near the Pakistan border, but you know their names. Flaming Rooster. Steel Iguana. Jumping Tiger, something Gazelle, and - 

"Fine," Kaz snaps. "Fine. Might as well be you, right? Go on. Find some new goats while you're at it."

  

_You remember ~~a hundred kilometers north of Bien Hoa~~ ~~a field of white~~ Columbia, where it was so wet your skin was sloughing off inside your boots. You remember fragments of sunlight filtered through the tangles of foreign vines, your hands slipping when you tried to haul yourself out of the muck._

_It was never silent. But you remember a flash, an instant, right before the leaves whistled. You remember the back of his ~~dark~~ blonde head, half-turned. He was looking back at you as if he was about to say something. Never made it all the way around._

_The first shot shot off his flak helmet. He jerked like a worm on a hook when the next two hit - one in the chest, the next in the head._

_You couldn’t fix him. Couldn’t even hold him. Someone else fell, next to you, on top of you, crushing you into the mud, and you remember crawling over Kaz’s body, using him as a handhold, shoving him back down into the mud just so you could breathe._

_Three days later, in a rain-soaked rice paddy, Kaz stepped on a mine. And you -_

_You put him back together, didn’t you?_

 

There were no survivors.

No survivors, but you found a cassette tape. Plastic burnt, the tape itself warped and tangled. Bits of handwriting - a D, a P, a marred squiggle. It could be your handwriting, but you can’t remember who else you might have given a tape to besides Quiet.

Quiet takes the tape from you now. Holds it like she’s about to crush it, but she’s watching you. Waiting for your signal first.

You shake your head and reach out your hand. She hands it back slowly, like how she reaches for the lizards you show her.

You can fix it. Untangle the tape and reel it back in, wiggle broken plastic back in place, and tuck it in the same pouch you keep all your other tapes.

“It’s a good one,” you tell Quiet, and she snorts a little before pointing at your iDroid, to the sky, and you remember to call Pequod.

Maybe Paz will like the tape.

It’s always so quiet in her room. No one brings so much as a flower. You bring wilted Haoma and a boombox snagged from the barracks.

You’re surprised to see Kaz at her door. He looks at you, down at the boombox in your hand, and smiles.

“Don’t be -” you start, and leave it hanging.

“Mad? Whatever for?" He pushes the button for you. "I'm sure she'll love it."

Paz sits up with interest, a light in her eyes you've been waiting to see. She’s happy that you brought her something of the outside world, and you kick yourself for not doing it sooner. You put in the tape and press play. Turn down the volume, keeping it soft and peaceful.

“Hey, I know this song," Kaz says. "Remember, Paz? We used to play this.”

“That was when he was trying to teach me guitar,” Paz explains. “Oh, I was terrible!”

"Everyone's terrible when they start out. Maybe if you'd kept at it..."

She wasn’t that bad. You used to like hearing them play together, the gentle strumming drifting around base. Kaz stopped playing after she fell into the sea. Smashed up their little music studio one night on a cocaine bender, ranting about that -

You remember this song, too. It’s one of your favorites.


End file.
